Wine and Summer Days
by Queen of Lunacy
Summary: How do you know if you love someone? Is that warm feeling that spreads through your body like wildfire love? That feeling of being so safe? Maybe all you need is an old memory to remind you why you love someone.


Hello my dear readers,

I'm back, be happy please :]

Another one shot, and I'm sorry, I was in the process of writing a chaptered story but the computer it was on crashed, and the way I started it out was kind of out of character and going nowhere-ish

So to make up for that, here's a fluffy Ron+Hermione (is there a code name for that like Dramione?) one shot. Even though I'm a firm Dramione fan, face it, they're never going to be together, and this one came to me in the middle of the night and Ron was the only one who fit it :]

So without further ado…

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Hermione lightly hummed to herself as she poured herself a glass of wine. She had gotten off work early, and had spent what was remaining of the day with Hugo and Rose. They had insisted on making her jump around pretending to be a frog for an hour after dinner, and her knees were hurting and her voice was still sore from saying "Ribbit Ribbit" for so long.

Collapsing on a kitchen chair, she swirled the crimson wine around in the clear glass and tipped its contents into her mouth. It slipped down her throat, playing with her taste buds and she sighed in relief. As much as the still new mother loved her children, it was always a liberation to put them to bed and just have some alone time.

Glancing at the ticking grandfather clock that stood by the kitchen door, guarding all of them, Hermione wondered where Ron was. It was rather late and she felt herself panicking. After the war, she had started hating not knowing where her loved ones were. It reminded her of the time when people she loved had bid them farewell and promises to stay safe and return from the headquarters and had never come back.

Shuddering as she thought about the war, she brought her lips to the glass and took another sip. She fondly thought of Ron. She often wondered why she loved him. It was such a terrible question, but she was never really sure. Was that warm feeling that erupted through your body like a fire, that feeling of being so _safe_, love? Was she really _in love_ with him, or did she just love him like Harry, like a brother?

Trying to shake her head of such foolish, such betraying thoughts, she traced an "I" and then a heart and then a "U" on her wrists. That small movement made a grin slowly ghost over her lips, and she felt the same butterflies she had felt so long ago, on that sunny summer day.

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A panting bushy haired girl in Hogwarts school uniform dropped down next to a boy with flaming hair. It seemed brighter than the sun itself. When he turned to look at her, a goofy grin spread over his face, she hoped to whatever spiritual forces there were out there that she wasn't turning a deep red.

Muttering a timid "hello" he only nodded in return. Slightly curious she raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent. They both sat under the giant tree enjoying the sunlight peeking through the leaves. It really was a beautiful day. Without any talk though…

"Why aren't you talking Ron? You're usually halfway through your 50th sentence by now" she said nudging him a bit and tucking a stray lock behind her ear. He blushed and biting his lip he said in a very _pitchy_ voice.

"My voice broke… and everyone seems to think it's hilarious, so I'm not going to talk to anyone until it's back to normal, or whatever the bloody hell normal is." He closed his mouth and Hermione couldn't stop a giggle from escaping her lips.

"See? Even you think it's funny, I'm such a freak!" His gaze dropped to his hands which were fidgeting in his lap. Almost immediately her laughter stopped, and she felt her heart break just a little for the boy sitting beside her

"Ronald, it's completely normal! Every teenage boy goes through it" she caught his muttered "Yeah, well everyone else's voices broke last summer, and now I'm the idiot walking around with a pitchy voice". Rolling her eyes she settled back on the trunk of the tree. Slowly closing her eyes she tried to ignore the rainbow winged insects dancing inside her stomach. She wondered if she should tell him that she loved his voice. Broken or not. It was adorable.

"Well…" She started timidly her voice shaking, "I rather like your voice, it's- it's endearing." She wanted to say it was cutecharmingbutterflyinducing but she knew that that would only be met by the reddening of his freckled face and a stammered goodbye as he sprinted away. Turning to face the aqua eyed boy she was taken aback by the beam on his face. She offered a little smile of her own and stared back at the lake that stretched out underneath them. The sun sparkled off the top and made it glitter and shimmer like a disco ball at a crowded muggle club. Hermione watched fascinated as a tentacle rose and broke through the surface, sending a million ripples dancing across the water.

"So, what's your favorite colour?" Ron cringed as each word came out, still hating his voice. Turning away from the lake and smiling she replied "Green, because it's bright and catches attention but not as much as say red or yellow, and it makes me think of the forest I once camped in. You?" She didn't need to ask, she already knew him better than he would ever know, but it was a part of their game. It was red, because that was his house colour and red was really the colour that defined him. She often wondered if he knew her as well as she did.

They often played this game, just getting to know each other better. They would talk about the most random things; their fears, their goals, their doubts, their likes and dislikes. It never got boring either, because it was just them, together for that moment in time finding out that they just might be perfect for each other. But they'd never admit that.

"Okay, favourite memories?" Hermione asked after they had gone through the basics. She shifted so she was leaning against him and looked up and tried to count the holes in the canopy of leaves above them. Ron turned the shade equivalent of a tomato but didn't say anything because he didn't want to mess up this _moment_.

"Hard question," he said. "Well, the first time I flew a broom… And the first time I performed magic because Mom looked so proud, and she had never looked that proud about me until that moment." She glanced at him and gave him a sad smile before answering her own question.

"When I got the Hogwarts letter because I wasn't just someone in the crowd, I was actually special. And when I got locked in that bathroom with the Troll" Avoiding his startled gaze she continued "because that day I finally got some friends, best friends." Both of them stayed in a comfortable silence, sometimes breaking it when they thought of hard questions. If one were to peek over the tops of the emerald trees and squint through the golden rays of sunlight, they would think that the two 13 year olds were surely together. How they wished they were.

Suddenly he grabbed her wrist and turned her around. "Me and Ginny, ignore the grammar 'mione! As I was saying, _Ginny and I_ used to play this game all the time when we were kids." He slowly drew a letter on her wrist. "What letter was that?"

"R! Obviously." Smiling a little, Ron continued to trace letters onto her wrist. Every time he traced a letter, butterflies-no moths- catapulted through her stomach. Every inch of her skin that he had touched burned and tickled. She felt the urge to pull her hand away and say "_Stop doing this to me! Stop making me feel something so… illogical!_" But of course she didn't. Instead she answered everything with a sparkle in her eyes that Ron adored. She didn't want to ruin this moment.

"I? Yes, I. What's that? Is that even a letter? Oh wait… Heart? Okay, heart. And that's a U." She smiled smugly and glanced up at him. He was staring at her with azure eyes. There was an intensity in the gaze that she couldn't place. She licked her lips, because they seemed to be so dry. Why was he staring at her like that? And then it hit her. I Heart You. I love you. He loves her. She pulled her wrist back like she had just been shocked.

Ron's face fell. It looked like he was about to apologize. Silencing him with her eyes, she grabbed his hands back from his lap. With shaking hands, Hermione traced the exact thing on his sun kissed wrist. Ron mouthed the words and the goofy grin she had grown to love broke out across his face. His hands took hold of her wrist once again and they continued their little game as if they had not just proclaimed their love for another.

They sat like that for what seemed like hours. Lost in small whispered words that meant nothing but still made each other's hearts flutter, lost in what they had. When the first raindrop fell, like the teardrops of an angel crying for a lost world, she jumped up. Offering him a hand, he got up and she danced into the rain.

She twirled and pirouetted and the rain danced with her. When she felt Ron's arm around her waist she melted back into him. And they danced together with the rain and the wise trees as their only witness. They didn't need music, because at times like those, you never do.

"I'll always love you 'mione" his breath tickled her ear as that broken voice that she thought was so cutecharmingbutterflyinducing reverberated through her mind. And she knewhopedwished it was true, and so she just snuggled into his chest that smelled so like _him_ and they continued to dance. It didn't matter that they would probably have a fight tomorrow just so that no one would ever know that this, this, moment happened between them, or the fact that they would never utter those words again. All that mattered was that it was so cliché, and so perfect, and they molded together in a way that you only read about.

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Sighing happily as she reminisced over the days when she was so naïve, she poured herself another glass. Sipping the strong contents she found herself thinking if he remembered that memory. She thought about it almost everyday, and sometimes when she was awake and he was sleeping peacefully with his hair in his eyes, she would trace those exact letters onto his wrist.

An annoying ringing brought her back to reality. Exclaiming in irritation she set about trying to find where that incessant ringing was coming from. She found the mobile phone her parents had given her about 10 years ago vibrating around on the sofa. Picking it up she cautiously answered it; that thing had ringed about two times in the last 10 years, and each time it brought bad news.

"Hello?" Hermione's voice sounded ridiculously childish in her own head. "Hermione! Is that you? Oh Hermione, your f-f-father h-had a heart attack." The person on the other line was sobbing and she dimly recognized it must be her mother. Her father? What was she saying?

"Hermione! It's horrible, he's, he's, _dead_." Her mind went blank after those words. She let both wine glass and phone slip from her fingers. The phone thudded onto the sofa, and didn't break. But the wine glass fell so spectacularly. It crashed on the ground and broke into a million glittering pieces, and she vaguely thought whether her heart was in the same shape. Tears began to race down the plains of her face and a sob broke out and shook her entire body.

"'Mione! I'm home." His voice called from the front door. He came in beaming with a bouquet of roses. Noticing her sobbing he dropped it and ran over to her. Sweeping her up into his arms he cradled her and asked again and again what was wrong.

"He's gone! My father's gone! I only just got him back, and now he's lost again. Why? Ron! I can't, I can't, I… I think my heart just broke!" She wailed into his work shirt and she wished she could stop crying, because it was ruining his clothes. But when she tried to pull away feebly saying through the tears that she shouldn't cry on his work clothes it was met on deaf ears.

When her tears had begun to stop he slowly kissed the remaining ones away whispering comforting words. And then suddenly she felt like a terrible human being because he had lost so much more than she had, and yet she was crying more than he ever had. Ron seemed to read her mind and shook his head furiously. "You deserve so much more, you don't deserve such an idiot, you don't deserve to have seen what you have seen."

When Hermione's sobs had stopped she leaned on him and wondered what she looked like, all her makeup must be running and she would have a clown's nose. "I don't understand why you're in love with such a mess" she whispered. He grabbed her wrists and said "You. Are. Not. A. Mess."

Slowly he traced an I, then a heart, then a U. Whispering in her ear he said "I'll always love you 'mione".

"Y-y-you still remember?"

"Of course, how could I forget? I think about you every single second of the day, whenever someone's said something funny I always look for you to see if you're laughing, you are my everything. That summer day I finally got hope."

And at that moment Hermione remembered why she loved Ron. It was the way his eyes always lit up whenever they were together, and how she always felt so safecompletesecureinlove when she was with him. How he always read up about what she was lately interested in, so she could talk to him about it, how his hand always finds hers whenever he thinks she might be scared. How he would always be her flaming haired Romeo, and she would be his curly haired Juliet. How they would always be RonandHermione and HermioneandRon.

AND SCENE

Not so sure I like this one myself, but I thought of it while I was drifting to sleep, and it seemed sweet. I mean, who doesn't like a heart lifting one shot? *Please say yes please say yes*

Anyways, feedback please, constructive criticism appreaciated, if you think it's crap please tell me why.

My prom is this weekend (well was, I wrote this some time ago, hehe), which is why I'm wearing high heels, I have to practice =] Have you guys had prom yet? How was it? I'd love to know, even if you don't want to know about mine =]

xx kisses

The Queen Of Lunacy

P.S At the moment, I love Panic at the Disco, who else knows them?


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